A Haircut for Sora
by Selena Style
Summary: A Sora fic about her relationship with her mother. It takes place when she was younger and then a few years later. Sora is a cool character and I like writing fics with her in it. Fairly fluffy, and perhaps some sniffles too. Enjoy!


Disclaimer: I don't own digimon or any of the characters ****

Disclaimer: I don't own digimon or any of the characters. And if I did you would certainly see a lot of changes, I'll tell you that. 

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Author's Note: I was in a fluffy mood. This is a Sora story (there are never any) and because I'm suddenly rooting for her ever since the Sorato thing. She is a cool character – the girl has an edge, which sadly taken a way from her in 02 (although her hair looks good). Anyway, this is when she was little etc. and it's my interpretation of her life with her mom and her "dad". Oh come on, where the heck did he come from? I mean poof I'm Sora's dad and I'm a professor. I think we were all happy pretending Sora's mom was a divorcee/single mother. Anyway, on to the fic and please read and review.

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"Mommy!!! Noooooo!" A little girl, no older that 4 or 5, with long vibrant red hair streaked down the hallway of her home screaming at the top of her lungs trying desperately to escape the clutches of her pursuer. 

Her mother. 

"Sora, please come here!" said the mother following her daughter while all the while trying not to loose composure and strangle her child for the mess she was causing. The little girl suddenly tripped and found herself cornered by her mother. Her little legs were tired from the effort of running. She struggled to stand, but her long hair got in the way so she merely fell down again. The mother's shadow loomed over the girl who whimpered softly through the red mass. 

"But Mommy . . . " she sniveled pulling her hair out of her face, "I like my hairs . . . " The mother sighed and made "tsk" noise at the little girl. 

"Oh Sora you foolish, lovable girl. You need your hair cut." Sora looked up with her big, brown eyes as her mother bent down and pulled her lovingly into her arms. She carried the little girl to the family room and they sat down together in their favorite old chair. Sora snuggled into her mother's arms and coiled a lock of hair around a finger. She couldn't imagine a more comfy spot. The mother gently caressed the little girl's head and stroked her fingers through the long red streaks. Sora finally calmed down and ceased her crying. Her mother gingerly wiped the tears away. 

"Now young lady," began her mother, "you are going to get your hair cut."

"But why?" Sora asked pitifully. 

"Sora your hair is far too long. You can't see anything you do and you keep tripping over everything. Remember those boo boos you have on your elbows and knees?" Stephanie shook her head in disagreement. 

"Those were axcy – dents. Not because of my hairs." Her mother chuckled softly. 

"But sweetie, you won't be able to do any fun activities with your hair in the way." 

"I don't care." 

"You can't play with your friends."

"I don't care."

"You won't be able to ride your bicycle." The little girl's mouth dropped open as she began to pout. 

"Not my cycle!" she cried out in despair. Her mother nodded, finally finding her edge in the argument. 

"Oh yes," she stated, "Your long hair will be caught in your bicycle's gears while you pedal and then you will have really big boo boos." Sora gasped. 

"On my nose?!" her little hands rose protectively over her small nose. Her mother smiled and nodded.

"I'm afraid so or even worse. And then you can't wear your helmet either." The little girl's eyes started to fill with tears again. The mother pulled out a brush and guided the bristles gently through her daughter's hair.

"I – I guess I have to get m – my hairs cut then, huh?" she sniffed. She turned around to face her mother. "Will it hurt?"

"No honey, it won't hurt at all." She gave her daughter's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I promise and after your haircut I'll get you something special." Sora eyes lit up in delight. 

"What Mommy? What?" Her mother beamed down at her. 

"Just wait and see." 

"Ok Sora open your eyes," urged her mother in a soft voice. The little girl had her eyes squeezed tightly shut while the strange man snipped away at her precious red hair. Her small hangs gripped onto the edge of her seat. She didn't want to see what hideous things the strange man had done to her hair. But now that her mother had given her the all clear signal, Sora cautiously opened her eyes one at a time. 

"Look at my hairs!" she squealed in delight bringing a smile to her mother's lips as well as relief to her heart. The little girl marveled at her haircut. Her red hair had been drastically shortened to an above shoulder hairstyle with a slight flip. It was bouncy and certainly made her look older than 5 (which is what all little girls want). She rushed over to her mother and hugged her tightly around the legs, since she couldn't reach any higher. 

"Oh Mommy, thank you! Thank you for cutting my hairs!" The mother just hugged her back, thankful that the whole ordeal was over with. 

"Now here's your present," said her mother bringing out a box to the ecstatic Sora. She jumped at the box and dug in to pull out a brand new helmet. 

"Wow!" she cried out immediately putting it on. Her mother noted it was bit too big for her, but she would grow into it. The helmet was baby blue with long straps handing down. Sora's haircut seemed to go perfectly with the helmet. 

"I'm going to call it my Lucky Hat," Sora exclaimed as she proudly marched about the hair salon. Her mother just smiled again, took her daughter's hand, and led her out to the car. 

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**__**

Several years later . . . 

"Mom! I'm home!" Sora walked into her home as her body ached from soccer tryouts. Her legs had grass marks in several areas from all the obvious blocks and dives made on the field. Sora dumped her gear in the old chair before walking into the kitchen to greet her mother. 

"Sora, you better have not tracked in mud," her mother said warningly. 

"Nice to see you too Mom," replied the teenager with an edge of sarcasm. She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of lemonade and helped herself to a glass. She gulped down a glass down before pulling back a loose strand of her short red hair. Her mother looked her up and down disapprovingly before resuming her work over the kitchen sink. 

"Why do you have to be involved in such a dangerous sport?" she asked with out bothering to look over her shoulder. Sora sighed. This was a continuous debate between them.

"Mom, I love playing soccer. I love the rush I get from it. I love having friends on the team." She walked over to her mother and looked at her directly in the face. "And I'm good at it," she added. 

"Sora I'm proud of the fact that you are doing so well at soccer, but that still doesn't take away from the fact of how badly hurt you can get while you're out on that field." 

"But I'm careful . . ."

"That still doesn't take the fact away that you can be permanently injured," her mother interrupted. "And then where will you be?" Her mother silently walked over her to the kitchen table and motioned for her daughter to sit down. Sora grudgingly obliged. 

"Sora I want you to quit soccer," her mother began in a low tone. 

"What?" cried the teenager. 

"I think it's time you do something safer, something that can help out the family. Your father's job is taking him farther and farther away from us. I want you to work at the flower shop at me." 

"So I'm supposed to give up something I love because of Dad's stupid job? This is unfair! I made the team today Mom! I made the top team in the league and coach is suggesting I run for captain. Don't you understand how much this means to me? This is my future!" 

"You can't have a career as some jock Sora!" her mother cried, "Don't you read those stories of people's lives being destroyed in one game? Years of practicing and hard work wiped out in a matter of seconds!" She sat down in the seat and added on quietly, "I don't want to see that happen to my daughter. I love you too much." Sora's eyes watered, but she wouldn't let her mother see it. She rose to her mother and kissed her lightly on the forehead. 

"You can't keep cutting my hair forever," Sora said simply. "You can't keep shortening my hair, so to speak, as a way of protecting me. My hair is no longer long and tangled. I can see fine now and I know how to take care of myself. I love you Mom, but you worry too much." She headed moved towards the door and picked up her bag. She paused for a moment before exiting. 

"I'm going over to Tai's house," she said. "He invited me over to practice for the championships coming up and to stay for dinner." She paused. "If that's ok with you . . ." Her mother stayed silent and didn't move until she heard the door close. The elder woman walked into the family room and curled up on the old armchair she used to hold her daughter in. She reached down and pulled out the faded blue helmet. 

"Not so lucky now," she whispered to the hat and coiling a strap around her finger like her daughter used to do so long ago when her hair was long and tangled. She talked to the helmet like an old friend. "She used to be so helpless. Always needing you with her as protection. Maybe I need the luck now." The mother sighed and put the hat away as she softly cried. But just on the other side of the door, her daughter wept while rocking back and forth on the steps of the house wishing she still had her hairs. 

*****

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Author's Note: Just a little inspirational fic and my movement for pro Sora. I've been watching 01 re-runs (ah, the classics) and they reminded me of my favorite characters. But I do love my 02 gang *snuggles Ken plushie*. Ah, well read and review. 


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